Written in the Stars
by ProtoBlues
Summary: Does our destiny control our will, or does our will control our destiny? Kisara x Seto x Isis
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Whee, back to Sorry for such a long break, guys, but I've been concentrating on original fiction. But somehow, I can't abandon fanfiction completely – I love it too much and it holds too many fond memories for me. So now I'm back. Probably not for long, though. XD

I'm actually much more interested in GX, but I can't think up a Zane x Alexis storyline (I like their English names more – so sue me). So I'm stuck with the old Yu-Gi-Oh.

Oh, and did I mention that this will probably not be finished? Chances are, I'll get tired of the idea by chapter eight or so and then leave it hanging in the middle.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or any of the characters used in this fanfiction.

Credits: to Twilight Suzuka for beta-reading; this chapter, the next and probably the whole story.

* * *

"I'd like to know if you could possibly use your weird Egyptian voodoo knowledge to make some Egyptian figment of the imagination stay away from my dreams. Surprising as it may be, I like sleeping, unlike your weird zombie brother and his followers who think they look tall, dark, and handsome in those cheapskate towels." 

For a while, Seto had been having recurring dreams (he called them nightmare-wannabes) about an albino woman who was wearing Egyptian robes. She was, admittedly, quite beautiful in a weak and fragile, damsel-in-distress type of way. But he never liked weak women – they were obnoxiously clingy. Like that ugly girl who followed Yami Yugi around like a stupid duckling.

Quite annoyed at the dreams which showed nothing but random cut-scenes of that woman, Seto decided to track down Isis and demand she do something about it. Not wanting to beg Yugi or any of his friends; he had Mokuba ask Rebecca (since it would never do for his younger brother to talk with Yugi or any of his close friends) to ask Yugi to ask Ryou to ask Marik for Isis' phone number. It turned out that she didn't have a cell phone and shared the same home phone with Marik, but the minimizing of one step didn't particularly made the process any less tedious or Seto any less impatient.

And, of course, in such desperate need of her help, Seto decided to greet her with an insult of her, her beliefs, and her brother (twice). She, as suspected, was not pleased. "It's not 'voodoo', your dreams aren't 'figments of the imagination', and my brother is not a 'zombie'. It is destiny and your past life coming back to you because history has a cyclic nature."

"Yea, that's what I call voodoo. Now back to my question: are you going to get that stupid albino out of my head or not?"

"Albino?" Isis' surprised was evident through the telephone, as was her rushing to old texts and flipping the pages noisily.

"Yes, albino," Seto answered irritably, wondering where the answer to _his_ question was.

"Albino... That's strange, I don't recall any albinos relating to Seth..." Isis muttered, still quickly flipping the pages, disregarding the fact that several thousand year old documents should be given much more care.

"Seth...Seth..." she muttered scanning the hieroglyphics for the name. "Seth's father...Relation to the pharaoh... Blue Eyes White Dragon... Millennium Rod... Death... Where's the albino man...?" she muttered to herself.

"Man?" Seto laughed in surprised upon realizing he never specified, "It's a woman – a girl, really."

"A girl?" With that tone of voice, he could almost see her suddenly getting an idea, "Okay, love affairs...love affairs... Prostitutes..."

Seto jumped up from his leather cushion seat to sputter out, "_Prostitutes_? What in the world would make you search that up? I don't do prostitutes!"

"But," Isis chuckled lightly from the other line, "You don't believe that you're the reincarnation of Seth, so what does the fact that _you_ don't sleep with prostitutes affect whether or not Seth did?"

Seto growled, "Just search that damn thing."

After searching for a good half an hour (and with the phone bills piling on), Seto finally remarked, "Search for the origin of the Blue Eyes."

"Pardon?"

"Origin of the Blue Eyes," he repeated shakily, surprised at how that thought suddenly entered his head.

After a moment of silence, Isis flipped back to the section on the Blue Eyes White Dragon. "Oh!" she cried out in surprise.

Seto hurriedly asked her what the passage said. She didn't respond, so he asked again; this time more forcibly. Annoyed that he was disturbing her reading and sudden recollection of a minor myth she was told as a child, she read the passage to him in Egyptian. "In a language I can understand!" he snapped.

"Considering that you're asking me for a favor, I would suggest that you hold your tongue, Seto," she replied, purposely calling him by name. She knew how much he hated it when she called him by first name. Said it was impolite and insulting in Japanese culture. Well, she was Egyptian, so what did she care about his customs? It wasn't as if he was any more respectful towards hers (with the "voodoo" talk) and she was not a particularly forgiving woman.

"Fine," Seto growled, not happy upon realization that he was in need of someone else's help. "May you please translate the passage about the albino woman into a language I can understand for me?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"All you have to do is ask," she replied, in a teasing tone (as much as it scared Seto), "It's nothing major. Just a few lines on how the Blue Eyes White Dragon was originally an albino (well, it literally says pale-skinned, white-haired woman with blue eyes; but the ancient Egyptians didn't have a word for albino) woman who sacrificed herself for Priest Seth. It doesn't say why or what relation she had to Priest Seth..."

"And why do I even care who she was or what she did? Are you going to get her away from me or not?"

"No." she unhesitatingly replied, without caring about the wrath that would be inflicted on her. "You must come to terms with your ancient past."

"_No?_" He flew into a rage and his anger was practically seething through the telephone's earpiece. "Do you know who I am? If I want, I can buy every single ancient Egyptian piece in museums worldwide, and then destroy them all! I can buy that lousy piece of land you're living on right now and kick you off it! Are you sure you won't help me?"

"I can't," she replied unaffectedly. Sometimes, Seto wondered if he should be amazed at her even temper or laugh at the fact that she obviously had some problems in her head. He just threatened to make her homeless and destroy something which she had devoted most of her life studying. And she didn't give a damn.

"Why the hell not? Would you rather go homeless and jobless than to shut up about your ancient past nonsense?" he demanded.

"Seto, I'm sure you were given state of the art education. So tell me: what does _can't_ mean?" she didn't bother to wait for a response, "It means that it's _impossible_. Even if you threaten to blow up the universe, I still can't do anything about it."

"Why not?" he demanded, trying to not scream loud enough for everyone in a two mile radius to hear him.

"I just said," she replied, somehow managing to keep her temper in spite of Seto's apparent lack of hearing, "You have to come to terms with your past. She's not going to go away until you remember her and...well, do whatever she wants you to do."

"And _how_ am I supposed to know what she wants?"

"Ask her," she responded with an obvious tone in her voice. He was a bit surprised at the answer. He figured that he needed to do some stupid magic ritual and talk in a fake spooky voice to summon her spirit to talk to him.

-

He decided to take her advice. When he saw the girl again in his sleep (this time, she was curled up in ball), he opened his mouth to call out to her when he realized he didn't remember her name. Did Isis even give him a name? No, he didn't think so. So what was he going to say? "Hey, Blue Eyes White Dragon"? If he spoke out loud in his sleep, he was more than certain that he would sound like he was talking to a card (he loved his card, but not that much) and Mokuba would use it against him.

So, of course, the one time that he decided to do as someone said, he couldn't. See, even Isis' beloved destiny didn't want him to have anything to with that reincarnation, ancient Egyptian nonsense.

However, with his determination to get that annoying girl away from his dreams, he refused to give up and just wait for morning to come. Instead, he left himself looking rather stupid; gaping, then closing his mouth, and gaping again. Racking his brain for something to do that wouldn't make him look stupid, he realized something. "Kisara."

* * *

A/N: Cliffhanger? No, not really. I just didn't want to drag this to eight pages. 


	2. Chapter 2

She looked up with huge, blue doe eyes, which stared into his eyes with an expression that he would place somewhere between surprise, fascination, and pure idiocy (after all, she was staring at him like some stupid five year old). "High Priest Seth," she whispered before standing up and walking over to him. She stopped a foot away.

His lips pursed at the mention of his previous incarnation's name and opened his mouth to tell her that he wasn't Seth and she must be mistaken. Instead, "thank you" came out. His eyebrows knitted together, wondering what in the world was wrong with him. Last time he talked in a dream, he had control over his vocal chords.

He walked towards her and stopped only when he was much too close for his own comfort. He didn't want to but... It was something like a trance. Except he did it consciously. Or maybe it was more like when someone jumps up, screaming "Yes!" upon good news and then realizes that he just did something really stupid and everyone was looking at him. Either way, Seto decided, he didn't really care because he was still standing much too close to some stranger. His hand somehow or other grazed against her hand.

Or rather, would've. It fell through. His eyes darted from her hand back to her face, waiting for an explanation. "I'm not...here, exactly," she replied apologetically. "Would you..." she looked nervous as she spoke, as if wondering if those lines would be appropriate, "Would you like me to?"

Seto nodded mutely. Upon realizing that he did, he dearly hoped not. But apparently, the Fates were not kind to those who mocked them. Not that he would _stop_ mocking them anytime soon just because of this incident.

He wondered if this was the part where she would fade away slowly with a smile on her face like in the movies. And he wondered if he would then grasp helplessly at her like in the movies. Trying to conjure up an image of the latter but failing, he decided otherwise.

Suddenly a loud, mechanical wailing began. Seto whipped over to his left instinctively to pinpoint the source of the sound: his alarm clock.

Groaning, he pulled himself up from his bed and slammed a hand on his alarm clock before rubbing his eyes sleepily. Well, that didn't usually happen in the movies. Actually, did they? It wasn't as if he had been to a movie any time recently. Nor did he watch any contemporary films in the first place. With the downward way civilization was going, he didn't _want_ to know what happened in comedies these days, a few decades after Monty Python. They couldn't possibly get any worse. Unless they made comedies about anatomically incorrect cartoon characters (consisting of a stupid dad, a talking dog that was smarter than the rest of the family, and a cynical bastard of a baby) and had perverted jokes/scenes every single episode. And if such a show did exist, it would prove that civilization was declining at an astronomical rate.

Seto slid himself off the bed and began his daily routine, getting ready to head to his office, where he camped out for most of his waking hours. Twelve hours later, in the dead of the night, he deemed it safe to leave the building; with both the company's finance and his temper intact. Paparazzi had to sleep sometime, right? And with all their ridiculous questions, they couldn't possibly be intelligent enough to work out the concept of shifts.

Flipping his cell-phone open, he ordered his limo driver to come over and pick him up in front of the skyscraping office building. He came out into the streets slowly, knowing that he would have to wait a while anyways for the limo to come. Pulling close the doors (as there was no point of having a door which required a cardkey to unlock, if the door wasn't closed in the first place), he glanced around to make sure that no one would yelp and come to him screaming for an autograph or a picture. He didn't spot such a person, but he did spot a girl with extremely light colored hair that stood out against the darkness of her surroundings. His first instinct was to wonder why an albino would be in Asia, of all places.

His next course of action was to recall the dream and widen his eyes in a look that obviously said, "Oh, crap." He turned to go back inside the building because there was no way he was going to deal with all this Egyptian nonsense – especially not at midnight. Remembering he bought that expensive cardkey lock, he cursed mentally and fumbled in his coat pockets for his key.

He grabbed it in relief and after stealing a quick glance at the girl to make sure she was still facing away from him, he swiped the card. The machine beeped and he froze. Slowly, he looked at Kisara. She was staring at him. Great. He was just in the mood for another psycho idiot to preach to him about his past life and all that crap. At what time of the day could he ever get a break from all this nonsense?

"I think I know you from somewhere," she stated.

At that, Seto was a bit miffed. She _thought_ she knew him from somewhere? Of course she's supposed to know him - he's all over the newspapers and television and internet! How could she only _think_ she knew him? Despite his raging thoughts, his response came out calmly (albeit in his usual cold and snappy manner), "I'm a celebrity of sorts – you probably saw me on television or something."

"No, I mean...I think I know you personally."

"Well, you don't," he replied sharply and walked into the office building, pulling the door close behind him. He would've slammed it, but those infernal expensive hinges prevented him from doing that.

She stared at him through the glass for a moment, before deciding to walk on. He heaved a sigh of relief.

-

Seto walked into his mansion of a house and announced his arrival to his brother. It was two days since he saw that weird girl – and no, he was not going to call her by name – and he hadn't heard from her since. If he had, he wasn't sure what he would've done. Probably scream at her, call Isis to scream at her too, and then beg (in his threatening way, of course) for help.

"Seto!" Mokuba rushed out to greet him. Seto's complexion turned ghastly pale. Being tugged along by his brother was none other than Kisara.

"_What_ is she doing here?" he managed to croak out.

"Oh, well; I met her at Yugi's shop – I was visiting there to get some new cards – and she looked sort of helpless of confused, so I talked to her. And she said that she knew you and you guys were related in ancient Egypt and she didn't have any place to stay, so..." he laughed sheepishly, hoping that his brother wouldn't mind too much.

Seto was quick to drag his brother into another room and discuss. They came out five minutes later, Mokuba with a grin and Seto wondering why he gave in.

Mokuba broke the good news to Kisara and proceeded to take her on a tour of the mansion, leaving Seto to wish he never had a brother. After thinking and re-thinking about what caused him to lose the argument, Seto decided that it wasn't relevant and it would be better for him to find some way to rid himself of the nuisance instead.

And who better to ask about 'voodoo' than a certain Egyptian? "Marik, get your sister on the phone," he commanded instantly through his cellphone.

"May I ask who this is?" Marik asked, unused to being ordered around by men (by his sister was a different story).

"No; now get your sister on the phone."

He shrugged and did as told, "Isis! Someone's on the phone for you!"

"Who is it?" she called back, from several rooms away and started towards him.

"Dunno – he wouldn't tell me; but he's speaking in Japanese. Secret guy you're dating online? I promise I won't make fun of you."

"I'm not dating someone online," she snatched the phone from him, "Hello?"

"Beat that brat into shape for me, will you?" Seto commented from the other line, having heard the conversation.

She ignored the comment, "What do you want?"

"Psycho girl gave me a visit and now she's living under my roof."

The other line went silent for a second before Isis replied with, "Well, that happened fast. Do the Japanese not court?"

"Pardon?"

"I said: do the Japanese not court. Court is synonymous with woo and date," she supplied.

"I know what court means!" he snapped, "And _why_ are you assuming anything of that sort? Mokuba picked her up from the streets like a lost puppy and now I'm stuck feeding her or else I'll upset Mokuba."

"Ah. And you need my help to do what?"

"I don't need your help," was the sharp, instinctive reply.

"So I suppose you called halfway around the planet to check in on me? How considerate of you. For your information, I'm doing fine; thank you."

Seto released a soft sound that was somewhere between a hiss and "tch". Men have genius; but women have wit. "I don't care how you're doing. You're going to help me get rid of the psycho girl; whether you're being hunted down by terrorists right now or in the middle of a month long fast or giving a lecture about destiny and gods and all that crap."

"I do believe you're confusing Egypt with the Middle East," she snapped. "And even if I lived in the Middle East; you're completely stereotyping them. They're not infested with terrorists; nor are they all Islamic fundamentalists." Seto wondered briefly if she would even bother to put up with him if it wasn't that she thought he was the reincarnation of one of her gods or kings or whatever.

"Thank you for the correction; I care either way," he sarcastically replied, "Now, can you exorcise psycho girl from Egypt or do I have to fly you over here?"

"_Exorcise_? She's not a _demon_."

"No, she's not," he replied with a tone resembling good cheer, "She's a schizophrenic idiot who thinks she's the reincarnation of whatever. Now, use your voodoo magic to get her out of my house and into the mental asylum where she escaped from."

"I can't _make_ her go away," she decided to ignore the voodoo comment; it wasn't as if he ever took her corrections to heart. "She'll go of her own accord once she's satisfied."

"That's what you told me last time and look where that ended up. So this time: if she doesn't leave my house, you're not leaving it either," Seto smirked gloatingly.

"Pardon?" Isis asked, trying to make sense of Seto's words. The line went dead without a response.


End file.
